The Third Musketeer
by Alyss Penedo
Summary: An Eye for An Eye leaves the whole world blind, especially when your two brothers' overpowered Quirks are hogging the spotlight. ***cross-posted from AO3. tagged for genderfluid-character and casual murder. linear chronology, what's that? also, probably pretty AU for BnHA-history***
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Why did this get so long? So much dialogue =.=

Again, these scenes are NOT IN ORDER.

* * *

Your name is Hiroshi Takeyama, 36-year-old talk-show host and occasional children's author, remarkably fit and with absurdly bright blue hair. The person you live as now is also a wonderfully flamboyant one; when you break into your brother's newest lair, you do so wailing.

"You killed Nana-chan!" You cry dramatically, finger extended right at Aniki's metal mask. Shimura Nana has been dead for almost a full year. Aniki is unamused.

"You were the one who set her on me. I do hope you weren't expecting me to spare her?" His voice is very, very soft. Oh dear. You drop your hand and use it to scratch the back of your head sheepishly.

"That... wasn't really my intention, Aniki. Sorry for the trouble?" You laugh awkwardly.

"Then what _was_ your intention, exactly? Surely there were less troublesome candidates to entrust One for All to." His fingers start up a slow drum on the armrest of his frankly impressive chair. He's probably not actually as angry as he presents himself, but his temper has been getting nastier over the years. Best you not push him. You wipe the trappings of Hiroshi Takeyama off your demeanor, and meet his eyes when you answer him.

"My intention was to put nii-san's legacy in the hands of someone he would've approved of. The sixth holder was pathetic, but didn't Shimura Nana seem like someone nii-san would've wanted to wield One for All? A hero?" When he stays silent, your voice turns a little plaintive. "She was such a sweet girl. I'm sorry she went and interfered with your business, but did you have to kill her in such a pitiful way?"

Aniki gets up abruptly and walks off, waving at you to follow. It's not an apology, but it's pretty close to forgiveness.

You let Takeyama settle back over you, and trail after him into an ominously dark hallway. This would be a pretty good setting for a story, actually—buzzing lights, exposed piping, following a super-villain into the depths of his evil lair-

"Brother. Have you been involved with the eighth wielder?" Aniki interrupts. You blink out of your fantasizing and sheepishly tuck away your notepad.

"Nana's successor? Nah. Shimura Takeshi died before his daughter ever met young Toshinori, remember? And Hiroshi Takeyama was just an occasional babysitter for her son."

"Hmph. I can't be bothered to remember all the lives you've taken." Ignoring your mutters of _how mean, Aniki_ , he demands, "You'll keep your distance from this one."

That pulls you up short. "Whaa? Why?"

"Consider it a concession. I won't kill this wielder until One for All has been passed on, but you've been getting too involved with the succession lately. Live your life, brother, and stay on the sidelines." At the slightly mulish expression that crosses your face, he adds, "I won't tell you twice."

You throw your hands up. "Alright, alright! I won't interfere except to make sure the kid passes One for All on. He's already got himself a decent mentor, anyways, so there's no need for me in his life."

"Good. We're here."

 _Here_ is a heavy metal door, one that locks from the outside. So Aniki _didn't_ send you his base's coordinates just to scold you. Well, it makes sense. Aniki's current body is probably getting on in its' years.

Sure enough, there's a lab behind the door, with two operating tables left out. One has a trembling body strapped to it, face already bandaged in preparation. The other, meant for you, is strapless and even has a pillow ready; how thoughtful.

You leave Hiroshi Takeyama at the threshold—that man would be horrified at the situation, and you have no use for him here. Instead, you are entirely All for One's youngest sibling when you step forward to examine the body. A teenager, you think, though it's a little hard to tell under the thick black clothes. Definitely male, because Aniki gets strange about being a woman. "Isn't he a little younger than you usually go for, Aniki?"

You give Aniki a teasingly suggestive smirk. The body flinches, fingers fisting in fear. Huh, awake _and_ lucid. Aniki must not want to wait for any drugs to flush out.

"That doesn't concern you," Aniki sighs, and motions for you to get on with it. You hop onto the table meant for you, but don't lie down just yet.

"Is that one," you jerk your chin at the other table, "going to have an actual name?"

You've asked this every time, and just like always Aniki replies, "All for One," and gives you that particular bemused look of his. You frown as you swing yourself fully onto the table and lie flat.

"'All for One' again. Do you even _remember_ your name?" You've asked Aniki this before too.

"Do _you,_ Eye for an Eye?" He retorts, and doesn't wait for a response before settling his hand on your face. "I'm taking your Quirk now."

You close your eyes, and don't double-check with him to make sure he'll put your Quirk back. There's no need. After so long, you trust him.

(When you wake up, 'All for One' is puttering about the lab, face newly melted into that odd featurelessness that comes from holding so many Quirks. The straps on the neighboring table have been neatly unbuckled, and when you swing your legs onto the floor you almost put your foot into the cooling puddle of blood. Aniki makes an amused noise at your _mou_ of disgust, and passes over some cleaning supplies. Together, the two of you efficiently mop up the evidence, and you get a good look at Aniki's old body before he uses one of his many Quirks to burn it into nothingness.

Its throat was slashed, possibly with a scalpel. The teenager inhabiting the corpse would've bled out quickly.

You wonder what the boy's name was, and you don't ask.)

* * *

You're supposed to be Nanatsuki Reiko, 68 year old retiree and grandmother of seven. You're not. Reiko would never be able to stomach coming here, with the intentions you have.

"Hello, All for One," you greet sedately. Aniki glances up from his busywork, and absently waves off the grunts pointing guns at your face.

"Leave us," he dismisses. His men disperse obediently. You give them an unimpressed look as they haphazardly shuffle away, and sit opposite Aniki without waiting for an invitation. Your joints creak in protest.

"Youth these days are so undisciplined," you sigh. "Your men need some shaping up; they're unsightly."

Aniki finally deigns put down his pen and look at you. "You usually time your visits better so you don't have to see them to begin with," He drolls. "It's been a while, sister. You're looking old."

You know how he means that comment, but you feign offense anyways. "Nonsense. I don't look a day over forty, brat. Show some respect for your elders." You grin wickedly at him.

"Not old age? Then what brings you here?"

"Ahh, well. Yes old age, as a matter of fact. I need a little favor, Aniki."

"More than usual, I take it? You haven't brought anyone with you this time."

"Yes. I spent too long living this life, and perhaps enjoyed it a little too much. Nanatsuki Reiko doesn't have a believable reason to die, so I need to arrange her untimely murder. Your help would be appreciated."

"That should be simple enough. Who will you be next, then?"

"My youngest grandson. Daichi Takashi, four years old. His Quirk lets him animate drawings."

"So young? Won't you be put into the foster care system?"

"He's still got his parents, but my Kyoko's been mostly leaving his care to me, and that fool she married won't pay any mind to a little change in their son's behavior."

"Alright then. I expect you'll be leaving your current body here?"

"Yes. I intend for Reiko to go missing today and her body to turn up a while later. You'll be gentle with Takashi-kun, won't you?"

"Of course. I'll see you in a few years, sister."

(The next day, you wake up as Daichi Takashi, four years old, to the news that your beloved grandmother has gone missing. Two days later, your father tells you that Reiko-obaasan was found in the river, her neck broken. You cry at the news, and over the following weeks your mother quietly frets over your drastic personality change.

Five years later, you are Daichi Takashi, nine years old, and you are finally old enough to spend your Saturdays unaccompanied. Your mother's friends coo over how mature you are for your age. Your father's proud of you.

You break into Aniki's latest lair to reclaim your Quirk, and greet him with a beaming smile and a, "Hi, All for One!"

Aniki glances up from his paperwork, sighs, and waves off the grunts pointing guns at your face. This time, when they leave you two alone, they march in orderly lines. Your smile is probably uncharacteristically smug for a 9-year-old.)

* * *

Your name is Taneka Toshiro. You are 52, a highly successful businessman, and under investigation for being an accomplice in a human trafficking ring for children with powerful Quirks.

You are absolutely guilty of what the police suspect you of, though not nearly as much as they like to imply you are. Your business was just a front for a while, and though you were fully aware of what some of your recent hired hands were up to, you never touched those kids.

Your lawyers deny all accusations, of course. Your business partners kick up a fuss. The media goes wild with speculation. Everything's going according to plan.

…Except the part where you've been imprisoned. You were meant to incriminatingly escape from your house arrest in the middle of the night, lead the heroes and cops on a merry goose chase, and choose to die rather than be brought to trial where your heinous crimes would undoubtedly be brought to light. Unfortunately, one of the officers assigned to your case has some manner of foresight Quirk, and knew that if you were allowed to return home you'd run. How annoying.

There's only one person you can trade with who won't kick up a fuss over being in jail. Well, two, technically, but you're not sure if Aniki's right hand is still the same man as from last time; it's been a while. So you wait until nighttime, when you're left alone to sleep, and hope Aniki's not doing anything important when you trade with him.

You blink into awareness in the body of All for One, and fortunately it seems like you are alone. Not so fortunate is the fact that you are standing in a lab, pouring a mysterious substance from a canister into another mysterious substance in a beaker. You carefully cap both and put them down. Hopefully you didn't just ruin whatever this is.

You blink back into the body of Taneka Toshiro. Aniki has arranged your body so that you're lying face down on the cell bench, face pressed onto your folded arms-a position of utmost exasperation. How dramatic.

Still, cavalry's on the way. The situation's still salvageable.

(The next day, the police investigation turns up documents suggesting that Taneka was the mastermind of the ring. Taneka himself isn't available for questioning, seeing as the man killed himself in his cell. Some of the children are returned to their families. Others are found dead and -though the official reports don't show this- Quirkless. The men involved with the ring are summarily arrested or simply disappear; the case is closed, and the police move on to other matters.

In a different prefecture, you read about the mess on the newspaper, and tell Aniki that next time he should probably arrange his own scapegoats. Aniki agrees with you, and quietly lets 16-year-old Umukuri Shinsui live his life.)

* * *

"Sister," All for One starts, before you can even greet him. "I have a favor to ask of you."

Your name is Shiragaki Kagome, 19 and newly orphaned as of last week, and you take no shit from anybody.

"Hi Aniki. I'm doing well, thank you for asking. Not sure I can say the same about you, though," You fire off, closing the lid of your laptop and swiveling around on your computer chair. "You know, I was beginning to think All Might actually killed you, you didn't get in touch for so long."

You stand, hand on your hip, and waggle a finger at him disapprovingly. You're in your humble abode, a little apartment above the pet store your mother ran. Tomorrow, you're going to have to go down there and familiarize yourself with all the animals and goodies before you can confidently open up the shop again.

Aniki looks almost hilariously out of place in your cozy bedroom, but then Aniki has an aesthetic that isn't really suitable for anything but torture chambers, shady business meetings, and unethical labs. "You were hanging around heroes again. I wasn't sure it was wise."

Excuses, excuses. "You've been getting paranoid in your old age, Aniki. Old Chuuzei-sensei was merely checking up on nii-san's legacy before her health nosedived. You did quite a number on the man, you know."

"Yes. It was...a favor he repaid in kind." Aniki touches a hand to his side, where one of a number of worrying tubes is inserted. You hadn't realized that they were anything more than some oddity of a new Quirk.

Kagome is discarded like so much chaff. "Aniki? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he says, and doesn't elaborate. This fails to reassure you at all.

"You know, I'm pretty sure I can trade with All Might. Find someone to pass One for All to, train them up a little, and then succumb to a fatal relapse of old injuries..." Your voice is uncharacteristically cold, but someone has hurt Aniki. Aniki has actually sought you out instead of sending you his location and letting you come in your own time. "Shiragaki Kagome's mother died just last week, too. It's not inconceivable that she would commit suicide."

You don't target One for All wielders, but you're willing to make an exception for Aniki.

Aniki, who is a stubborn ass, tuts at you like you're being ridiculous. "That would be far too seemly a death for him. No, you don't need to concern yourself. Just mind your own business," he refuses, brusquely but not unkindly meant. You sigh.

"Fine then. Are you here to borrow Eye for an Eye?" You flop down onto your bed. Kagome is coming back to you, in spurts and trickles, and she prompts you to fold your arms behind your head cross your legs casually. "You're probably hurting, right? Did you hide a body in my closet or something?"

Aniki shakes his head at you, and solemnly sits in your desk chair. You squint an eye at him—uneasy, but not quite willing to show it. "What are you here for, then? You haven't paid me a social call in... god, at least a century."

Aniki—fidgets. There's no other way to describe it. You haul yourself upright, slowly, incredulously; you're pretty sure you're staring. "Sister. I have a favor to ask of you," Aniki repeats, and it suddenly hits you that he's _reciting_ something, like—like some green teacher reading a speech off of prepared notecards. "Will you hear me out?"

"...What is it?" You prod, when he seems unwilling to continue. "You know I don't mind you asking."

"I'm... You know the work that I do. The empire that I've built up, over the ages." Aniki seems inexplicably uncomfortable. You haven't the faintest idea why—he knows you don't have a problem with how he chooses to live his life. You nod encouragingly anyways. "I'm getting tired of it, sister. I want to stop. And the best way to do that would be to refrain from using your Quirk for a while."

"What?" Your voice is a weak, paltry little thing. "You... want to die?"

That's a stupid question. You're bizarrely ashamed it even came from your mouth. You can feel Aniki shooting you a judgmental Look through his mask. "No. I want to retire peacefully. I want the whole world to remember the name All for One, and feel sure that he is dead. I want to leave my empire in the hands of a trusted successor."

"Okay. That seems reasonable. What is it you want from _me,_ though?"

Ah. The uncomfortable countenance is back. You still have no idea what it means. "You watch over One for All's successors, and guide them when they need it. Can you do that for mine, too?"

"I can try my best, Aniki, though I've gotten more into the habit of training heroes. But I'm only going to do it if you're too dead to do it yourself."

"I'm quite likely not going to be available."

"Right then." You sit up and plant your feet on the ground. "Explain that to me. What's your big plan, Aniki? What going on, and what do you need from me?"

Aniki steeples his fingers, like the stereotypical super-villain he is. "I'm going to pass All for One on, and I'm not sure I'll be able to guide my successor properly. You remember Tomura, don't you?"

Hmm. You nod. "Yeah. Smart kid, bit of a brat. You're sure he's ready to fill your shoes, though? If you give up All for One, we won't both be able to use Eye for an Eye anymore."

"No, Tomura isn't ready. And I'm not sure he will be by the time things come to a head either. I don't want him to fill my shoes, sister, I want him to step into his own." Aniki folds his hands in his lap, and turns his head towards the window. You're pretty sure he can't actually _see_ anything through that mask, but maybe he's picked up an appropriate Quirk somewhere.

"I'm not too worried about after. I won't be able to retire peacefully knowing that there's still more I could've done for Tomura, anyways. But I've got a good handle on how All Might is. We were fighting to death that day, sister, and he didn't want to kill me. He stood over where he thought I'd died, and said it was an accident."

There's a certain kind of disgust in Aniki's voice that you've never really understood, though you recognize it. He used to speak similarly of when nii-san would meddle in his business, or of particularly troublesome heroes. It would make you nostalgic if it weren't for the bitter undertones of genuine hatred.

"I'm going to fight him again, after both of us have lit the torches of our successors. And I'm probably going to lose. But he won't kill me, just arrest me. If I'm executed, that'll be fine—the whole world will believe I'm dead. But if the courts sentence high-security incarceration instead of execution, I'm going to have to be there to convincingly die of either neglect or old age, and no one will be there to guide Tomura and help him grow while I'm in prison. So I'd like you to do it."

That's... fairly comprehensive. You wonder how long Aniki has been cooking up this scheme for. "I don't think that'll work. Tomura-kun has never really listened to me, and you _want_ him to be independent and headstrong. Maybe... no, there's no point in trying to break you out or do anything suspicious on your end, is there? That would just be counterproductive."

Aniki sits patiently as you mull the situation over. He seems a little expectant. He probably already knows the conclusion you're going to come to and is waiting for you to reach it, the manipulative jerkwad. "So. Can't do your job for you, can't break you out openly. Then what you're _actually_ asking is if I'll live as 'All for One' in prison for a few years, right?"

"Maybe." He's smiling behind his mask, you can just _hear_ it. "Can you play me convincingly enough?"

You draw yourself up, and Kagome tightens around you ready to huff and puff and blow his challenge right down. "Of _course_ I can, Aniki. Do you doubt my abilities?"

"No. Of course you can," he echoes softly. "Would you really be willing, then?"

"I suppose I would. A few decades in prison aren't much in the long run, and what's a little favor between siblings?" You smile at him companionably. "I'd like to know why you suddenly feel the need to have everything settled this generation, though."

Aniki gets distinctly more awkward. It's kind of fascinating to watch. "I... lost that battle. Utterly," he finally admits, and suddenly things make way more sense. Aniki and his _ego._ "All Might destroyed more of my work in one fight than anyone's managed in a lifetime, and the next One for All wielder is only going to be stronger. I can grow with All for One to keep up, but I don't want to be locked in that kind of endless cycle of fighting."

"Does it...bother you? That nii-san's legacy is always fighting you? I could try to change that," you offer, but even to yourself your words sound dubious. It wouldn't be right for One for All to be in the hands of anyone but a hero, and Aniki is far too set in his ways to flourish as anything but a villain.

"No. It's... fitting, that this is way things are." Aniki sounds like the admission pains him a little. You get that. "But I've been doing this for a long time, and Tomura is the most promising successor I've ever found. I want to see what he can become, with this power, in this fight. I'm sure he'll grow into something devastating."

Wow. Aniki sounds nearly _smitten_. It's sweet of him. And here you'd thought he only liked little Tenko-kun because of old Nana-chan.

"Alright." You cough, a little awkwardly. "Well, it's better if you're the one with Eye for an Eye when that final battle goes down, right? So you can use it trade with me, and I can use it trade out at the end. Do you want to take it now?"

"Not yet. Closer to the time when I'll fight that despicable All Might. I just came to check if you'd be willing to take my place in death."

"Always, Aniki. I'll cheat death for you as many times as you need me to."

* * *

"Are you who I'm supposed to meet?"

Your name is Shiragaki Ayame, the sole 37-year-old owner of a small line of chain stores. Your recently departed husband left them to you in his will, so you are currently well-off (if somber at his passing).

Today, however, is not a day dedicated to the upkeep of Shiragaki Ayame. Today is the first of November, and you are having a picnic among the cherry trees. Like every year, you spread a perfectly white cloth over the dry leaves; like every year, you watch as the bare branches rattle in the wind and spend the day as Eye for an Eye, just reminiscing.

There are very few people who know of this little tradition of yours; fewer still who would have cause to seek you out here, on this day, instead of through more convenient means. So you're not polite, slightly-distant Ayame when you answer the subdued-looking boy, but relaxed, sprawled-out Eye for an Eye.

"I just might be. What brings you here, kid?"

"...Sensei sent me." The kid steps forward to loom over you, and sneers ever so slightly. "Said I'd find you here, and that he has a favor to ask of you."

A favor? That...really only sounds like it might come from one person. Though that doesn't explain why Aniki's sent a kid to you, today of all days. He usually avoids contact with you on the anniversary of your middle-sibling's death.

You're careful to keep any confusion out of your manner when you ask, "Well then. What's he want?"

The kid shuffles his feet a little, but steadfastly holds your gaze. "He said I need a safer place to stay full-time than the base, until I'm high-enough level that the mobs and underlings won't give me trouble."

...What the hell? You're not going to say _no,_ of course, because Aniki's asking this as a favor, but really now. What's he thinking, slapping you with a kid out of the blue? Aniki's head's only getting to be a more and more complicated place as time goes on, and you can't keep up so easily anymore. "Sensei, huh? Do you know his name? Or mine?"

The kid gives you a look that sizes you up, considers you suspicious, and conveys just how unimpressed he is with you all at once. Maybe it's the implied association with Aniki, or maybe it's just because of the day you've spent thinking about the past, but for some reason your brain jumps right to how much this kid acts like a tiny, brattier Aniki. It's almost cute.

"Yes, and no."

"Well, if you don't know already, then my name is Shiragaki Ayame. What's yours, kid?"

"...Shimura Tenko."

You freeze. "Would your father be Shimura Tomura, by any chance?"

Tenko-kun goes tellingly stiff. _Aniki you asshole,_ you think, as you lever yourself into an upright position. "Right, never mind that. Have a seat, Tenko-kun, and tell me a bit about yourself." You pat the cloth invitingly.

The grandson of Nana-chan gives you a dirty look for being so familiar with him, but carefully sits down anyways. "I'm ten. Father is dead. I like video games, and I hate heroes and NPCs, and I'm gonna kill All Might." He crosses his arms and gives you a belligerent, challenging look, clearly expecting you to return the introduction.

Mini-Aniki. Definitely a mini-Aniki. You take a moment to fight off a mocking coo, and then blatantly ignore the brat's attempts to socially pressure you into reciprocating. "Nice to meet you. Am I supposed to train you in anything, or are you just with me for a civilian cover?"

 _"Sensei's_ going to be teaching me everything I need to know. He says I'll go see him when the other kids have school. I'm just staying with you for sleeping and eating, because Sensei has better things to do with his time."

"Hmm." Sounds like most of Tenko-kun's time for the next few years will be spent living in your house. "We'll need to change your name, then. Did Aniki provide you with any papers?"

Tenko-kun blinks very slowly at you, apparently trying to decide what to address first. Finally, he asks, very cautiously, "...'Aniki'?"

"Ahhh. That ass you call Sensei. Who sent you to live with his darling little sister, apparently without giving you a cover story or me a proper heads-up."

Tenko-kun's reaction is hilarious. Horror hits him one way, mortification another, and fury runs them both over until his poor face doesn't know what do with itself. You can see exactly how upside-down his whole view of the situation has just turned; he probably thought you were some kind of semi-civilian lackey. He pulls himself together admirably quickly, though.

"...Don't call Sensei an ass," he grumbles. He can't seem to decide between being respectful or being annoyed. You very manfully bite back laughter.

"We're family, I'll call him whatever I want to."

Mini-Aniki gives you a calculating brand of stink-eye. "You don't look old enough to be Sensei's sister," he suggests, all sly-like. You huff.

"So you know how old Aniki actually is, do you? I'll take that as a compliment. Now, a name. Shiragaki Ayame's got two brothers and a sister somewhere. We'll tell anyone who asks that you're my nephew, since you'll be staying at my house, so 'Shiragaki something'. You pick."

Tenko-kun thinks about it for a long moment. "...Tomura. Shiragaki Tomura," he offers.

"That's a good name," you tell him, and your smile is a tinge bittersweet. Tomura-kun eyes you curiously.

You lay back down. The sun's starting to set, but you're not quite ready to go back to being Ayame yet. With Tomura shifting impatiently next to you, it feels a little less lonely here, this day, watching these same old trees grow. Aniki probably sent this kid to interrupt you purposely, right?

"Hey, Tomura-kun," you tell the sky. The boy twitches a little, unused to the name—you'll have to train him out of that. "You wanted to know why I look so much younger than my brother, right? Tell me honestly: do you know what Aniki's Quirk is?"

"Yeah. He...said it's called All for One." He watches you out of the corner of his eye, still so cautious. It's not a bad trait to have, if he's really running after Aniki. You hum encouragingly. "It lets him take other people's Quirks."

"Mmm, that's right. We had a brother, too. Everyone thought nii-san was Quirkless, which wasn't such a terrible thing when we were young. He was the one who mostly raised me. But nii-san wanted to be hero; it was hard for him, to be weak while Aniki was so powerful and doing so many things nii-san didn't agree with.

Aniki knew this, of course. He could tell; he was our brother. So even though he knew nii-san would probably cause him some trouble, Aniki gave nii-san a simple Quirk to fight with when I asked him to, as long as I agreed to let Aniki use my Quirk to live as long as he wished and to let nii-san die in his own time. So nii-san became a hero, and him and Aniki fought for half a lifetime, and when nii-san died Aniki thought that'd be the end of it. Only- well. Did Aniki tell you about One for All?"

Tomura-kun wipes the hungry look off his face, and shakes his head. You briefly wonder if you should really be telling this to the kid, but shake the doubts away. If Aniki didn't want you talking, he shouldn't have sent someone to interrupt your day so unexpectedly.

"Alright then. Nii-san did have a Quirk, and that Quirk was to give other people his Quirk. The two Quirks mixed into one, leading to a strengthening Quirk that could be passed on to others. So at some point before he died, nii-san passed on his Aniki-given Quirk to someone else, who passed it on again to someone else, and so forth. That leads us to today, and to the current wielder of the One for All Quirk. Who is All Might."

Tomura-kun jerks. You roll over onto your stomach and prop your chin up on your hands, staring silently. He fidgets under your heavy-lidded gaze. Ill at ease, he demands, "Why are you telling me this?"

You smile. Tomura-kun's a smart kid; it's probably what Aniki sees in him. "I'm telling you this because Aniki has sent you to me today, specifically, on the very anniversary of the day he killed nii-san. I'm telling you this because I have spent a good part of the last two hundred years making sure that One for All -that my nii-san's legacy- is carried on by someone he'd approve of. Aniki has agreed to hold off killing its' wielders until they've had a chance to pass it on... but you're not Aniki." You lower your voice, and Tomura-kun leans in ever so slightly. Your words are incredibly gentle when you say, "I'm telling you this because you said you want to kill All Might, and if Aniki's taken you on then he believes you can do it. So consider this a warning, Shimura Tenko: if you destroy the only thing I have left of my beloved nii-san, I will _erase_ you."

Oddly, the threat to his life appears to put Tomura-kun more at ease. It's honestly a little sad to see. He sneers at you, scoffing, and challenges, "Oh yeah? And how is a side character like you going to do anything?"

You shake your head. "Ah, I haven't told you about my Quirk yet, have I?" Of course not; you'd been hoping you wouldn't have to. Ah, well. "You see, my Quirk isn't a flashy one like my brothers'. It's called Eye for an Eye. It lets me switch bodies."

Tomura-kun harrumphs. "So what," he mutters, though his gaze takes a turn for the wary. "That's how you and Sensei have lived so long, right? You just switch to a younger body when your current one gets too old."

"Correct. Well done. However, that's simplifying things a bit. Quirks are a part of the body too; so if I were to switch with, say, you, I'd end up in your body with your Quirk, and you'd end up in my body with Eye for an Eye."

"So it only works if Sensei's there to take it from the old body and put it back in you." Tomura-kun sounds torn between fascination and disgust. You beam; he really is a bright boy. "What good is it in a fight, then? I'd just use it to switch back."

"I suppose you could; there's no cooldown time for Eye for an Eye, after all. But you're still missing two very important pieces of information, Tomura-kun." Your voice has taken on a slightly lecturing tone. Hoshitake Yuuto, the person you lived as before Ayame, had a fairly enjoyable career as a teacher—you hadn't realized you missed it. "First: I don't need to be near you to use Eye for an Eye. I don't have to touch you, or see you, or know where you're hiding—I just need to know who you are." Tomura-kun makes a face. You smile at him softly.

"The second is that Eye for an Eye is a Quirk that doesn't die. Maybe it didn't used to be this way, but it's a Quirk designed to enable body-jumping and it's been shuffled from person to person for centuries. So if its host were to meet an untimely end, it would come to the last person to use it—namely, me. Or sometimes Aniki, when he borrows it." You roll over onto your back, to give Tomura-kun a moment to compose himself. "Obviously we didn't know that at first, so yes, I used to take people to Aniki when I wanted to become someone else, and Aniki would put Eye for an Eye back in me and help me clean up the old body. But even back then, our Quirks made it so that there'd be no point to us fighting—he can't stop me from using my Quirk on him from a distance, I wouldn't be able to stop him from using it back, and we'd both just end up playing a game of hot potato with my body as the thing you don't want to be left holding when the game ends and the one in Aniki's body kills the one in mine. And even then, whoever it is could just switch with someone else at the last moment -say, you, or All Might- and then that unrelated person would die in my body, and the one in Aniki's would know that the other wasn't dead since Eye for an Eye would go to the person in yours or All Might's body. It'd be stupid. So we just don't cross each other."

You glance up, and hold Tomura-kun's gaze. "That's why you shouldn't do something that I'd have to kill you for, Tomura-kun. If you snuff out nii-san's Quirk, I am going to, oh, jump off a building and trade places with you before I hit the ground. Then _I'll_ be Shiragaki Tomura, and I am going to dedicate that life to destroying everything the Tomura of before built. There's going to be nothing of you left. And then I'll be someone else after that, someone who'll probably have to do Aniki a huge favor. But Aniki won't try to kill me for it, because neither of us wants to fight and there's too much of a chance he won't win."

Again, Tomura-kun looks strangely comfortable with his life being threatened. If anything, you doubting Aniki's ability to kill you seems to be what has him the most riled up. "But why doesn't Sensei just take your Quirk and keep it? It doesn't sound like he needs you at all," Tomura-kun complains. He sounds horribly put out.

The Shiragaki Ayame in you wants to scold her nephew for being rude. The real you just chuckles at him. "What's the point of him holding a Quirk that he can't use? He lets me keep Eye for an Eye because he can't use it without preparing a body first, or else he'll lose All for One. As for why he leaves it to me, specifically... Well, I told you, brat: we're family. It's been almost two hundred years—we're all we've got left."

You reach out and steal a quick hair-ruffle. Tomura-kun flinches away from your touch—something else you'll have to train him out of, if he's going to be posing as your nephew.

"Plus, it doesn't hurt that I'm willing to do favors for him from time to time, like look after his rude little children."

* * *

Your name is Shiragaki Kagome, 23 year old owner of a gardening shop. It used to be a pet store, but you decided a few years ago that gardening was the thing for you.

There's a man who you keep an eye on. Toshinori Yagi-san is cheerful, charming, and occasionally coughs up blood. He's been visiting your shop semi-frequently, ever since you accosted him on the road while handing out flyers for your remodeled shop's grand opening. Sometimes you seek him out to check up on him, because you are a concerned friend.

Today, you find him at Dagobah Beach, which. Well. Your aunt Ayame remembers it as being rather pretty, when she was young and still alive. He's there with a boy, and you are surprised to recognize Midoriya Izuku—fourteen, single mother, decently fit and with no social life to speak of. You keep track of a list of such concerning children in the back of your head, though Midoriya has always been pretty low thanks to his bullied and Quirkless status.

Yagi-san is undoubtedly training the boy, though. You don't get too close -wouldn't want to intrude, after all- but it warms your heart to see your self-appointed charge taking an interest in the next generation.

That night, you are Eye for an Eye, and you send your Aniki a message. _"It's almost time. Is my dearest nephew ready?"_

* * *

 **A/N:** Eye for an Eye's assumed names are not really important unless they explicitly are. If two last names are the same, you're looking at family; otherwise, all those people are unrelated to each other or canon characters.

Half this chapter was built on headcanons, fan theories, and wiki information. Pretty sure a lot of this will be invalidated when canon gets around to it; don't care :3

... _Probably_ not going to continue this without a lot more inspiration and actually reading the manga, but I 'like having the option open.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** The reason this chapter exists is (mostly) because I originally posted this fic as a one-shot, and then even though it was marked as complete I got a handful of followers for it? And I was so confused. The story is complete; why are these people following it? _What else would I write for it, even?_

...And that's how another 7K of fic happened. So to those followers: know that this is _all your fault_ ^_^

***Every single warning from the first part, plus: child abuse, lots of allusions to unethical science and unlawful captivity, police brutality (non-explicit), unhealthy family dynamics, err—hostage situations? kinda? and also these scenes are still not in order. Such a happy, well-put-together story this is.***

* * *

Your name is Urashiki Takehiko, 19, and a perpetually dour little shit. Eye for an Eye doesn't like reclusive social outcasts like you, but Eye for an Eye is also allowed to have absolutely zero impact on your life, because it's crucial that the two identities are not linked. Even coming to Aniki's lair as you are is a risk.

"All for One," you greet respectfully, because even if you fear no one and even if you're irked, you still know enough about respect to fake it.

"Brother," he returns, nodding from his cot. (Eye for an Eye feels a pang of concern; Takehiko doesn't have a single damn to give.) "Come in, have a seat."

"What's this about." You pause, just long enough to make it clear that you're sitting because _you_ want to and not because you were told to. "Are you finally done with my Quirk?"

"No. I'm afraid there have been some complications concerning Super Regeneration," All for One admits. You twitch in poorly suppressed impatience.

"Complications. What complications."

"The one I gave it to was taken into police custody yesterday."

"Yesterday. When that successor of yours attacked U.A.? The news said no major players were arrested." Your fingers tap out a slow _one-two-three-four_ on the armrest until you force them still. "Did you seriously give a Quirk like mine to someone _disposable?_ "

"Not at all. Calm yourself, brother," he warns.

"Don't 'calm yourself' me, All for One," you reply, voice flat and dead. In even, measured tones you lay out, "do you know how far and hard Eye for an Eye had to look to find someone like me? A body like this, a personality like this, a _life_ like this? You could've lived as Urashiki Takehiko for the rest of this one's natural lifespan, and no one would've suspected a thing. And even if they did, what could they possibly do to put down a man that recovers from even the most fatal of injuries?" A beat. You snort derisively. "Oh, I'm sorry, it's _recovered_ now, isn't it."

All for One is ominously silent and utterly still. You stand up from your seat, irritated and reckless with it. "Give me Eye for an Eye back and tell me who has Super Regeneration," you hiss.

"There will be no need for that," All for One tells you.

His voice is cold. You match him ice for ice when you cross your arms and say, "Oh? Then you're going to have your pet clean up his own mess?" You let your voice be as skeptical as it wants to be, and you don't bother sitting back down.

All for One doesn't betray his annoyance in any movement or expression, but you can sense it anyways. "The situation is not entirely Tomura's fault. And it is more complicated than you believe. If it were a simple matter of breaking someone out of jail, I could have arranged that myself."

"Obviously," you interject with a snort. You deign to sit down, since it seems like All for One's finally going to stop dancing around the subject.

"The one who has Super Regeneration is in a particularly high-security prison. I don't know which one, and I don't believe you could break him out even with Eye for an Eye. He also isn't someone you'll want to use your Quirk on; there's a good chance it will leave you effectively brain-dead."

You wait, but it seems like that's all that All for One is going to say. "So you're saying I should give up on getting my Quirk back." A beat. "Right, if that's all you're going to give me, I'll be taking my leave now." You get up and walk out, muttering, "waste of my time" under your breath as you go.

All for One, of course, can't let you have the last word like that. "It isn't as though you share everything with me either. Tell me, brother: who is the next holder of One for All?" He calls after you.

You freeze, insides cold with something that has nothing to do with anger or Takehiko. This base is relatively secure, and Tomura has been sucking up all the attention from law enforcement lately; you can probably afford one slip. A grin spreads over your face, bright and familiar, and you stick your head back into the room to direct it at your brother.

"Now, now, Aniki. That's not how it works—I only confirm or deny guesses, remember?"

* * *

You don't know your real name, and for simplicity's sake call yourself San. You're somewhere in your late twenties, at a guess, and strapped to a makeshift operating table. There are tubes and needles in uncomfortable places. Two hours ago you were brain-dead for the fourth day in a row; a week ago you were running across rooftops as a vigilante.

Ominous footsteps echo down the hall. This place has such a creepy atmosphere, you think you're actually getting chills down your spine.

"Hey, Aniki," you greet loudly, twisting your head upside-down to look at him. The footsteps stop dead.

"Brother. What are you doing here," Aniki hisses. He always sounds so surprised to see you now-a-years.

"Well, you found this guy before I did." You smile cheerily and waggle your fingers; you can't move much else, honestly. And your current face is one built for smiles. "I thought his Quirk looked familiar too."

Aniki harrumphs. "I'm fairly certain his Quirk is unique," he says, which is not untrue and also is a lie. You grin; you've missed Aniki.

"You can't take this Quirk, can you," you tease. "I don't think you can even feel it with yours, or you'd realize how familiar the shape of it is."

You've never actually traded with Aniki before, because he can get touchy about that sort of thing, so you don't know what Quirks feel like to him. But nii-san wasn't so discomfited about trading places with you, even after he got a Quirk to call his own, and you've traded into a lot of different bodies since—most of them with their own unique Quirks.

You recognize the thrum of this one's, dancing in your stomach and burning in your bones. You've recognized it since you saw the news broadcast on TV, really.

You smile, bright and happy and astonishingly real. This man's face really was built for them. "It's nii-san's," you tell Aniki, "but you already guessed that, didn't you?"

Aniki never _was_ able to take nii-san's Quirk back. Maybe your brothers wouldn't have gone so far if he'd been able to.

"He's dead. He's been dead for decades," Aniki says bluntly. Your smile dims involuntarily.

(Aniki never uses nii-san's name. And you understand it, you _do_ , you can't quite bear to use it either, but. Sometimes it still hurts.)

"I know that. And I know you're going to kill this man, because he made a big splash on TV and broke up a lot of your political stranglehold on Osaka and talks far too much like nii-san for your tastes. But you're not going to do it until I figure out how to pass this Quirk on."

"I'm not, am I?" Aniki asks, quiet and dangerous.

You haven't seen him in fourteen years, and you're still strapped to a table, and your Quirk is still with the 43-year-old body of Morigawa Kana in the next room over. In the space of a shiver, you wonder if this is how you die.

"I know that you've been leaving me alone for old times' sake," you tell Aniki, cautious and desperately trying to hide it. His face doesn't change, doesn't even twitch, so you know your words are truth. "I'm saying that you don't have to." How to approach this? "Do you remember that little girl that followed Nii-san around? You... took her hostage once, I think, to get nii-san to back off from one of your bloody little demonstrations." Your mouth curves into a grin despite yourself, Pavlovian amusement twanging through you even when there's nothing remotely funny about any of this. "He was so mad."

Aniki doesn't respond. His face is an empty shell of of a thing, hard and smooth and hollow underneath. If you could rap it with your knuckles, you think it might echo.

"And I don't know if you kept tabs on her, but she developed a Quirk an awful lot like nii-san's. I thought it was coincidence—one of the world's little jokes, or something. But then this guy's fight video made it online."

You don't state the obvious result of that. Few things burn through Aniki's patience quite so quickly as talking about his and nii-san's fights, and this self-proclaimed hero uses the same moves as nii-san, as nii-san's little disciple.

"I think that this is something he did deliberately, Aniki. It seems like something he would do. So even if it isn't... I... let's make a deal. Leave nii-san's legacy alone, and I'll do whatever favors you'd like to ask of me."

"Oh?" Aniki sounds bored now, which is how you know he's not. "I thought you intended to live a civilian life."

"I did. I've lived several, in fact, and it's not bad. But it does get a little lonely," you admit freely, because this is your brother and even when you don't trust him you will never lie to him. "No one but you knows who I actually am anymore, Aniki. And I only ever see you when one of us is getting a little too old. I've missed you."

Aniki hums, which means he's uncomfortable, which makes sense—he'd made truth-telling into a useful tool a long time ago, but open sentiment still makes him break out in hives. Maybe time will dull his aversion to displays of affection. "That's still quite the offer."

"And one I intend to follow through on. You know I can." You eye him. You haven't seen him in years, but Aniki-speak still comes to you easily enough. "I have the capacity to follow through, and the motive. I can prove it if you need me to. Just leave what's left of nii-san alone."

"...Even when he's dead, you still take his side over mine," Aniki muses.

His words sound more thoughtful than irritated; you know better that to trust that. Your answering smile is a thin, bloody little slash of a thing. It doesn't suit San's face at all.

"Nothing so childish, Aniki. Last time you two fought, I didn't interfere, and one of you died. Now that I know there's something of nii-san left alive, _I will not repeat my mistake_."

"And what about what he'd think of you? If you follow through, and do all the things I'm going to ask you to do, and do them in his name?"

"I don't care." You scowl, and make your voice extra petulant when you say, "if he's going to yell at me, then it's going to be at a time when I'm dead too and I can yell at him back."

Aniki's amused chuckle is genuine this time. "Very well then," he says, beginning the laborious process of unhooking your body from the machines and restraints. "We have a deal."

* * *

Your name is Shiragaki Ayame, still. Your nephew Tomura has been living with you for less than a week when he has his first fit.

You might call it a panic attack, except it's something beyond simple panic. The boy rages, at nothing and everything, and he sobs and he rants and he stomps his feet and he disintegrates your apartment's furniture. It's loud, and messy, and not very much of it at all seems to stem from fear.

You don't know what triggered this. You don't know why he's doing this, or what he's seeing, or how to help. So you sit quietly near the TV and wait for him to burn out. When the tears subside, when his anger turns listless and exhausted, when he runs out of breath and passion both, you offer him some milk for his wrecked throat and say nothing as he dusts the glass at a touch.

"What happened today?" You ask instead, soft and unobtrusive. He grumbles wordlessly; his eyes smolder up at you from the little ball he has made of himself.

This in itself is not a problem. You can handle Shiragaki Tomura—can handle Shimura Tenko and all the trauma and frustration that comes with the boy. No, the problem is your neighbors.

You don't have papers for your nephew. Legally, there's no Shiragaki Tomura, no ward of Shiragaki Ayame, and this is ideal—less fuss, less money wasted on bribes and forgeries, and no evidence left of any Shiragaki Tomura existing when the boy inevitably disappears into Aniki's underground kingdom.

But it also means you can't afford your neighbors calling the police because they hear a child screaming in your apartment.

Mikage-san lives behind the door to your apartment's right, and she's an _incorrigible_ gossip. She comes knocking mere minutes after Tomura quiets down, her concern layered honey-thick into something intrusive and unwelcome. Her voice is gentle and her eyes are sharp, and you've never once thought of her as dangerous before she came asking questions and softly offering to call the police for you.

You fend her off in the mild, polite manner of Ayame. You suggest that perhaps your ward's troubled past isn't really her concern, or her business to pry into. You apologize for his unruly behavior. Mikage-san's eyes are bright and innocent and dangerously curious as they survey your apartment; you know the excuse won't last.

The walls of your apartment are thin. When Tomura next has a fit of temper, you try shushing him, try soothing him into silence. He doesn't let you comfort him, and he lashes out when you touch him with gentle hands, and he yells and rages with reckless abandon. Ayame fades out, ever so slightly, and Eye for an Eye surges to the forefront with a vengeance.

Tomura needs to be quiet; you cannot afford an official investigation into either of you at this stage. You capture his wrists, put your hand around his throat, and press him face-down into the couch—tight enough to choke, gentle enough not to bruise.

He's still just a child, after all.

When the flailing subsides and the gurgling stops, you lessen the pressure. Tomura breathes rabbit-quick and blessedly silent under your fingers, and you pull away entirely. The boy sits up, huddled into the couch, and watches you warily as you begin cleaning up the mess in your apartment. You hum a jaunty little tune under your breath, and ignore him.

Over the next two years, you train him (sometimes forcibly) in ways to vent that are less likely to attract police attention. His uncontrollable ranting fades from screaming to a soft undertone. His violent tenancies turn from wanton destruction to the efficient and utter obliteration of a few choice targets. You teach him ways to ground himself in the present when he gets lost in his head, and find it unsurprising that he responds best to pain—scratching himself, mostly. Not ideal, but also not your problem.

When Aniki decides that your time together is up, the boy leaves without so much as a parting word. His gaze, whenever it happens to land on you, is just as wary and resentful as it was the day he moved in. That's okay. You've had to choke him silent on a few too many soft surfaces to really mourn his passing.

(You wonder if this isn't the real reason your brother sent Tenko-kun to you.

Aniki is the sort of man who has no use for emotion, and thus crushes it out of himself. Given someone like Tenko-kun, whose rages might well become a thing of legend, who burns so inexorably and intensely that you wonder if he won't raze the world to ash once his body catches up to his nigh-biblical temper—Aniki would have no idea how to teach your nephew to _channel_ that.)

* * *

"A ring?"

Your name is Hitsugashi Akio, 31. Older brother to three, fairly settled into your position as an actual stock broker instead of an office gopher, and yes, wearing a ring on your left hand.

Aniki sounds somewhere between bewildered and amused. "I don't recall getting a wedding invitation, brother," he mocks.

"It's just an engagement ring, we're not married yet," you deny. You blush -very convincingly, you might add- as you lift your hand up to show it off. "But she's really sweet. Oh—did you want one? The invites have already been sent out, but we can introduce you as an old friend at the reception if you'd like."

You give Aniki a quick once-over. "...Might need to borrow a different body for the day, though," you comment neutrally, "or just pick your next body with a harmless appearance in mind." Your gaze is fixed rather pointedly on the bulging arm muscles and unsettling third eye Aniki's current form sports.

Aniki is unamused. "Why are you really getting married?" he wonders idly (which is, of course, how you know it's a genuine question). "You must know she's going to die sooner or later."

Akio's practiced, slightly lovestruck smile slides off your face like a pat of melting butter. "Aah. I know, and I've made my peace with it. But for appearance's sake, at the very least, I should find a wife; a man of my standing without one is either gay or into something illegal, after all." Your mouth twists in a sardonic way that doesn't suit Akio at all; you force it back into it's usual smile. "Besides, Haru-chan really is a sweet girl. I wouldn't mind spending a lifetime with her."

Aniki eyes you in a way you interpret as uncomprehending. Your smile gains a slightly wicked edge as he takes just a moment too long to come up with a response. "You should come to the reception, Aniki," you offer, teasing but still entirely honest. "I'm sure you'll hate her."

(Four months later, Aniki does come, in the guise of a gangly, thick-eyebrowed man. You were right—Aniki hates her.

But he still attends. And, two lifetimes later, he comes again. And again, and again, and every wedding after.)

* * *

Your name is Shimura Takeshi, 33.

"Aniki! I need a favor," you call as you slam the door open. A trio of men obviously up to No Good whirl around and brandish various Quirks at you. Aniki barely twitches.

"Now is not a good time," he replies, infuriatingly calm. The implied _obviously_ in his tone is both rude and unnecessary; you can see perfectly well that he's in the middle of something, you just don't give a damn.

"I. Need. A favor," you bite out, with just as much intent to insult. Aniki regards you coldly for a moment.

"If this is about the death of your pet project, it can wait long enough for my guests to make their offer," he states. You snarl wordlessly for a moment.

"You _knew_? Then who-"

"Calm yourself, Eye for an Eye," he interrupts, and the name surprises you into silence. Aniki has never called you that before, though you've both jokingly referred to your Quirk that way. You suck in a sharp, harried breath; you're in front of an audience, it's not just you and Aniki here. You should pull yourself together, you know this, it shouldn't be as hard as it is.

"Please. I just need to know if... if the Quirk is dead."

"If it is, waiting out the hour will change nothing." Aniki's voice is stone. The outsiders glance between you and him warily, and their sharp gazes prickle across nerves already wrenched taut. "And if it's survived this long, I'm sure it will hold for a while longer yet."

"...Fine. Fine." There's nothing for you here. You withdraw; you were hoping to do this without an obvious body count, but if it comes down to it you don't _need_ Aniki to get things done. You're perfectly capable of investigating on your own.

Two weeks and nearly a dozen fresh corpses later, Aniki sends a message to you through the usual channels. It's simple; just a name and a face. That's enough for you.

(And while you don't quite forgive him -Aniki hasn't apologized yet, after all- you let a goodly chunk of your cold rage drift away.)

The sixth holder of One For All is an accident, a desperate decision made by a man who wasn't supposed to die just yet. He's a hero, yes, but only in the barest sense of the term—self-absorbed and arrogant and a sucker for publicity. Nii-san would've hated him.

So you make friends with him, in a sense. Shimura Takeshi is his biggest supporter, his closest fan, a trusted confidant. Shimura Takeshi gives him helpful suggestions to better use his Quirk, and expounds on his brilliance exuberantly when he manages to put those suggestions into practice.

Shimura Takeshi also introduces him to his daughter Nana, when she's still a little girl. Both Nana-chan and the sixth are smitten—not with each other, really, but rather with the idea of each other, of _hero_ and _pliable_ _successor_.

(You wouldn't go so far as to say Nana-chan was born for the role—she's not Takeshi's first child, won't be his last, and certainly wasn't his only option. But somehow, looking at the jumped-up celebrity that is the sixth wielder makes you pull on every lesson that nii-san ever embodied, and teach them to your children as how heroes _ought_ to be.

Shimura Nana might not have been born into the role, but she was certainly raised to _thrive_ in it.)

* * *

Your name is Yuchiriko Tsubasa. You're not quite sure how old you are -the police badge you lifted the name from wasn't that specific- but from the way you do your hair and the fact that your socks are slightly mismatched, you'd guess that you're a pretty casual person.

Aniki is in a foul mood when you track him down. "Heya, Aniki," you drawl, and his bloated hand freezes centimeters from slamming you into the wall.

"...Sister," he greets, like he wasn't just about to break your bones as easily as matchsticks. "That's an unusual choice of body."

"Isn't it just," you simper. You do a little runway twirl, showing off your uniform; it's an ugly thing, but you suppose you could just be biased. Aniki doesn't quite snort with amusement, but the little noise he makes isn't entirely derisive either. You'll count it as a win.

"You should be dead," he tells you, as close as he ever gets to expressing genuine concern. You grin at him, because you're not sure how else to tuck away the chill that shudders down your spine. Smiling tricks away the fear.

"Yeah, I thought so too. I wasn't expecting anyone to actually pull a trigger, you know?" You waggle your fingers in the general area of your sidearm. Actually touching the weapon... leaves a bad taste in your mouth. "I had my hands up and everything. Figured I could get away after they arrested me."

"My police sources were quite convinced that _someone_ died today. At the hands of the person you're masquerading as, in fact," Aniki prods. Your smile turns impish.

"You even sought out the face of my would-be killer? How sweet of you." You sober up when Aniki makes an impatient noise. "I don't know what happened," you confess. "Ironworks surrendered. He didn't make a single threatening move, and I didn't even try to trade with anyone. They shot him anyways."

"Police brutality against those labelled villains has been getting worse lately," Aniki offers—smoothly, consolingly, like it isn't in response to the rise in villain activity that he's _directly responsible for orchestrating._ "What happened after that?"

"I got lucky; they didn't shoot me in the head or anything, so I had enough time to swap out with the one who'd shot me."

Aniki shakes his head. "Why the one who killed you specifically? If my guards weren't hiding like cowards, they would've stopped you long before you got close enough to speak to me."

"Well." You think for a second; you're not actually sure why. It was sort of a spur-of-the-moment-before-you-bled-out decision. "It seemed appropriate, I suppose. She was going to take my life; I took hers back. My Quirk's good for that."

"She killed you, so you took her face?" Aniki sounds vaguely amused. You wonder how angry he really is, under all the layers of pretense.

"Of course! She killed me, I killed her. Eye for an eye, y'know?" You won't keep this body for long—can't afford to really, when you don't know enough about it's owner to pull it off. But the mentality that led to you taking it still appeals.

"Hmm."

"My Quirk is fine, since I know that's what you're worried about." You frown a little, because you're not sure what happened there either. It's like your Quirk followed you somehow, even though you'd been certain you'd left it in the dead body of the the up-and-coming villain. "I still have it; it didn't die when the body did."

"...I see. We'll look more into your Quirk later. What about the task I set you on?"

"Oh, no, that's a bust. Ironworks is dead, remember? I _just_ got the Red Crowbars to accept him as a viable leader, too," you groan. Nearly three years of infiltrating, wrecked in the space of a single gunshot. You're going to spend your entire time in this body sulking. "Sorry, Aniki. I know you were on some kind of schedule, but I don't think I can get that gang to join you without a fight anymore."

Aniki makes a thoughtful noise. You can practically _hear_ the plans being readjusted in his head, plots and ploys clicking like abacus beads under Aniki's calculations. "An irritating setback. How disappointing, sister," he rumbles at last.

You hold back a snort by the very tips of your fingernails. If Aniki were _actually_ disappointed anything worth a damn, he certainly wouldn't be saying as much out loud—he'd be shoving another, bloody and particularly unpleasant favor in your face.

You fall silent for a moment. You're not like your brothers, really. Conflict isn't fulfilling, or enjoyable, or whatever it is your siblings got out of butting heads so often. You're fine with violence, thoroughly desensitized to it—but seeking it out just isn't in you. You don't want a side or a cause or whatever it is that drives people to fight; you just want to live and enjoy yourself doing so.

"I think it would be best if I stayed away from overt villainy in the future, Aniki," you say, only a little bit for the sake of changing the subject. Your oldest brother pauses to regard you steadily.

"Are you sure?"

You nod. "I know you think I'd be good at it, but it doesn't suit me."

A beat. "...Very well then," he ultimately concedes. He stares at you unblinkingly for a moment longer before turning away, effectively ending the conversation. "I will manage these things without you in the future."

It's such a familiar gesture that you feel a lump build in your throat, cold and fond.

This is how love goes in your family: a sibling wants things you don't understand, and you accept that with a shrug and a nod. A sibling does things you don't agree with, and you shoulder the burden of those actions' consequences unflinchingly.

(You weren't there, that final time nii-san and Aniki fought. But you know without asking that neither of them hesitated.)

* * *

Your body is that of Natsumi Tooru, 29, mother of one and happily married. Her eyes are green, and her hair dyed an ugly blue, and her thighs too fat, and her voice too harsh, but you think you might actually like the heels and the motherhood. Her Quirk lets her direct attention to and from herself as she pleases, and it's the only reason why she hasn't been publicly identified and persecuted for having a Quirk at all.

She used to work as a very successful small-time drug dealer, but got out nearly five years ago. Today, you don her face and her voice, and lead her four-year-old son out of the house and to the residence of her old boss.

"But where are we going, mama?" Little Hibiki asks. He's been squinting at you suspiciously ever since you talked to him with Natsumi's smoker-rasp voice. He's a perceptive little brat; you like it.

"Not much farther," you soothe. "We're going to meet someone very important to mama, okay? So you need to be on your best behavior."

"...but who?"

"You'll see. Promise me you'll be good?"

"'kay." The boy sticks his pinky out at you, and after a moment of blank incomprehension you crouch down to hook your digit around his. He frowns at you -you've done something wrong again- and softly chants a promise as he wiggles your combined hands up and down.

Cute.

"Aniki!" You call as you push open the door. Your brother turns on his heel sharply, because this is a private space and his lackeys know better than to barge in. "Look who I brought to meet you!"

You can see the "How dare- who are- _Tooru?"_ rise and die on his lips, but to the boy with you it probably looks like Aniki's gaping. Like a fish. The kid giggles, and you fight the bizarre urge to high-five the little tyke.

When Aniki's words finally come, they are flat and annoyed. "I was wondering why you'd barricaded yourself in your room. Brother, _what are you doing."_

"No, no, it's _sister_ like this, Aniki." You gesture expansively at your pretty face, the obvious curve of your hips, the swell of your breasts under one of Natsumi's blouses. "And I brought you your son."

Both of them whip their heads around to stare at you, then each other.

" _Why_ would you even-"

"But mama, daddy's-"

"Yes, yes, I know who your daddy is," you tell the kid, pulling him a little closer by your interlocked fingers. Aniki is glaring holes into your borrowed face; it's amusing. "But before your mama met your daddy, see, she really liked someone else. That man over there. So mama had a baby with him, and that baby was you. But before you were born, mama decided that maybe she didn't really like that man as much as she thought she did, so she ran away and found your daddy and they all lived happily ever after."

You don't think children that age are able to pick up on sarcasm, but the boy still shifts uncertainly. His fingers clench and unclench convulsively around yours.

"But now you're four," you continue, when neither of them seem like they're about to interrupt. "And both your mama and father are very special people, so we think you might be a special boy too. Your father is going to check if you are, okay? I promise it won't hurt."

"But-" You hook the squirming boy up by his armpits and hold him out to Aniki with an expectant look. "Mama!"

Aniki stares back stoically. Natsuki's arms tremble slightly with the strain—she's rather let herself go, living as a housewife, and her body lacks the strength to make a staring contest out of this. "Go on, Aniki. This is why you had a kid at all, isn't it?"

"What are you doing?" He prods, not acknowledging the wriggly little human you're offering him. You scowl.

"I'm just doing you a favor. I know you've been looking for him." Pause. You take a small breath. "...You've been really busy lately too," you finish in a murmur, eyes cold and sad.

Busy—so busy you haven't seen him in weeks, haven't had a conversation in longer. Lately—ever since nii-san...

Well. Suffice to say, Aniki has been avoiding you.

"Hmm." Aniki looks begrudgingly contrite, and delicately takes the child off your hands. Hibiki looks far too small to be making as much noise as he is, especially in comparison to the girth of Aniki's arms. After a quick examination, your brother scowls, and you know the child has no Quirk even before Aniki says as much.

"Useless," he pronounces. Hibiki is tossed aside carelessly, and hits the ground still fighting to get away. He scrambles up and hides behind your legs, grabbing at your pants.

"Congratulations, kiddo. You're perfectly normal," You tell the boy, smiling, and he shrinks down even further under your attention.

"I'll call someone to take care of that," Aniki mutters, disappointment black in his voice. _That_ is the child still cowering by your feet. You wrinkle your nose at them both.

"There's no need to _kill_ him just because he's not what you wanted," you pout. Your pouts feel more natural on a woman's face than a man's, but Aniki is just as unaffected as always. Hibiki starts to cry.

"M-mama-"

"He's seen too much, and there's no point in keeping him."

"Nonsense. He's a kid, he'll forget this in a month, and who'd believe him if he didn't?"

"You're- you're not mama." You look down. The child is looking wildly between the two adults, shaking like he expects one of them to tackle him to the ground and kill him right there. "You're not- you- mama's- who _are_ you?!" He shrieks. His voice breaks.

...He's still clinging onto your pants.

You sigh. Ignoring the way he flinches away, you stoop down and swiftly gather Hibiki into a firm hug. He claws at you with tiny toddler-nails at first, but settles somewhat when you run a gentle hand through his hair.

"I'll take care of him," you tell Aniki, making it perfectly clear that you don't mean _take care of_ the way Aniki means it. He frowns at you—at your hand, which is rubbing small circles into the small of Hibiki's trembling back.

"That's unwise."

"Is it? Is it really? Because I'm not like you, Aniki. I can't survive by out-punching every serious threat; I can't make a living on that knife's edge forever. Settling down, being someone normal now and again—I don't think that's a bad way to live."

"You would be content with that?" Aniki scoffs, a strange twist to his lips.

"Naturally."

He doesn't understand. That's okay. You've never expected understanding from your stubborn, ambitious brother. From either of them, really. Whatever their disagreements, nii-san and Aniki were both very similar people at their core: clever and goal-oriented and considerate (if uncomprehending) in the face of their youngest sibling's willingness to not _accomplish something_ with his efforts.

"I won't apologize," Aniki says out of the blue, which means you've probably got that look on your face—the one you've been getting whenever you think too hard about nii-san.

"I know you won't." You pull the callousness learned from years at Aniki's side around you like an infant's swaddling blanket, and you shrug. The apathy weighs heavy on your shoulders. "I've already said I won't do anything about it, Aniki, so you don't need to keep... not-apologizing. After all, I... There's no need to avenge a man already dead."

Aniki's face is cold, cold, cold. Good. That's how Aniki should be.

(Not guilty, because people are only guilty when they've done something wrong. And maybe you didn't like it -maybe you hated it- but you've long known where your brothers' natures would lead them.)

"So I'll just take little Hibiki here home, shall I," you mutter. The boy paws weakly at your top, but at least he's not squirming anymore—too worn out, you'd guess. "And I'll be Natsumi for a while. And you can dig out my body and fetch my old Quirk. Objections?"

"...We wouldn't be siblings anymore," he grumbles at last, and.

He says it like it's a throwaway line, like it's the one last token argument he has. You're not convinced the words are quite that shallow, quite that low on Aniki's internal priority list.

You won't hug or punch him in front of an audience, no matter how young. But your voice is perhaps a touch _too_ soft when you say, "Of course we would. You'll always be Aniki to me. Changing bodies and blood doesn't stop us from being family."

Aniki lets you walk out with his son.

You head back to Natsumi's home—your home, you suppose. Hibiki's slumped against you, worn out, a comfortable (if awkward) weight in your hold. "Mama?" he slurs into your shoulder.

You hesitate, because you _aren't_ , not really. But... you _are_ now. So you fit a smile onto your face and hum a, "Yes, Hibiki?"

He stirs against you, alarm smothered by exhaustion. "You're not mama," he protests.

"In a sense. But I am now."

The boy -your son from now on, you suppose- has a stubbornly mulish look on his face. You couldn't see the resemblance to Aniki before, but you're definitely picking up hints of it now. "But you're _not."_

"I _am,_ kiddo. It's either this or I leave you with Aniki," you huff. The kid starts to cry again, which was not what you intended at all. You have no idea how to talk to kids, clearly.

"Aww, come on, kid, don't cry." You bounce him up and down a little, like you've seen parents do to fussy children. It doesn't work. "Listen, I knew your mama a while ago, back when she dated Aniki. You wanna hear some stories?"

"I wan' _mama,_ " he sniffles. At this rate, the wet spot on your blouse is going to be permanent. That'd be a shame; it's a pretty little bit of cloth.

"Sorry, kid." You're not, not really, because Natsumi was honestly a nasty piece of work—Aniki wouldn't have been able to stand her otherwise. But your pity is genuine. "I'm the best you're gonna get."

You test the keys in Natsumi's -your- purse, until you find the one that unlocks the front door. You close it firmly behind you, and deadbolt it for good measure before you set Hibiki down.

The boy skitters back, looking between you and the door you're standing in front of, before he turns tail and runs. You follow him sedately into his room, and sit on the floor next to the bed he's hiding under. If he's still crying, it's too quietly for you to hear.

You peek under the bed. He's dragged a blanket down there with him; probably a toy or two too, though it's hard to tell with the cloth in the way. The bundle of child flinches when you speak. "Kiddo, we need to talk about this," you sigh.

You don't expect a response, but the wet, "go _away"_ doesn't exactly surprise you.

"Kid, I'm serious. You can't let anyone know about what happened today, or that you don't think I'm your mama. Especially Nakijima—your daddy, I mean."

Hibiki sticks his head out from under the blanket, you think. At least, his voice is a lot clearer when he demands, "What're you gonna do if I don't?"

You quirk a humorless smile. You hadn't even gotten to the threatening part yet. "Well, I'm probably going to bring _you_ back to Aniki, at least."

Hibiki makes a sound that might be either a wail or a harsh hiccup.

You continue blithely, "And then, even if Aniki doesn't kill you, you're never going to see your dad again. Do you understand?"

You wait, but the child doesn't make a coherent response. You tug him out gently, curl your limbs around him in a cage just a little too firm to be entirely comforting, and let the boy cry himself out on your shoulder. When he finally quiets, you ask again, "Do you understand, Hibiki?"

"Y-yes."

"Yes, who?"

"I-I don't-"

"Who am I, Hibiki?"

"...Mama. Yes, m-mama."

"Good boy. Now we're going to practice that, and you're going to be in a _lot_ of trouble if you can't say it without the tears by the time daddy comes home."

You don't think it will be a real issue; he's the son of Aniki, after all.

(Your first murder -in person, that is, instead of through Aniki or as a bystander- is that of Nakijima Renka, 36, husband to Natsumi Tooru—husband to you. Your second is Natsumi Tooru.

Both happened because your son, for the life of him, _could not keep a secret_.

Aniki is kind enough to adopt, at least on paper, his five-year-old son. He keeps an eye on you until your new body is old enough to take care of itself. He's also, blessedly, mature enough not to say _I told you so_ even if he radiates the sentiment in your general direction.

None of this stops you from living out a life as Nakijima Hibiki, Japanese literature professor and occasional world-trekker, and _thoroughly_ enjoying it.)

* * *

Your name is-

* * *

Your name is...

* * *

Your...

* * *

-name...

* * *

...is...

* * *

 **A/N:** Ok. That's it, that's the story. Thank you all for reading!

"San" is, as I understand it, literally "three" in Japanese. The third person to hold One for All, San. *jazz hands*

(Oh my god, I feel like I just killed a kid. Like I killed a lot of kids, actually. I'm a terrible person.)


End file.
